


Could Be Worse

by Kitkatthetastysnack



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, Gen, Highschool Dropout AU, Temporary Illness (brownie points if you guess right)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 07:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12906921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitkatthetastysnack/pseuds/Kitkatthetastysnack
Summary: “I was getting some ingredients for omelettes.”“Sounds nice.” Naruto said politely as the other went about his business.Itachi pulled a pair of scissors from the basket by his feet, and cut a handful of what looked like thick grass from the planter, before moving to a tomato plant wrapped around his balcony railing, and picking a handful of the tiny red spheres. It took thirty seconds for the man to collect the ingredients into his basket, and every ounce of Naruto’s self control not to request one of the omelettes for himself.“Hopefully it will be,” Itachi replied with a smirk as he turned back to him, “Even in the worst of moods, the tomatoes will keep Sasuke at bay.”“He a picky eater?”“I’ll just say that this wasn’t my original plan,” the man said with a sigh.--Between forbidden meetings with his best friend, too few hours spent working at his roommate's kennel, strangely deep conversations with the man in the next building, and the gradual loss of his stamina, Naruto learns life as a recent high school dropout isn't exactly glamorous. It's still well worth living though, and he doesn't regret his decision for a second.





	Could Be Worse

Naruto clutched at the rough exterior of the apartment building, choking on his own breath, and relying as much on the wall as his own legs to keep himself upright. 

“Fucking hell,” he rasped. He’d been running for all of ten minutes, and that alone had brought him to the brink of collapse. 

He pushed away from the wall, and forced himself to walk through the pain. He’d learned the hard way that when his blood was pumping as hard as it was, it was a bad idea to stop moving. After multiple gym classes taught by Might Guy, he had plenty of experience dealing with physical overload. It usually took a bit more than ten minutes of jogging, though. He had only nature to thank that night had fallen, and the street was all but empty. 

At the end of his shift at the kennel just minutes before, Naruto had been beyond tired. Hana had sent him to the cat room that day, where Naruto then spent the last hour of the shift being attacked as he changed litter, distributed food, and cleaned up the various messes created by the room’s inhabitants. Scratches had lined his arms, all seeping blood without signs of stopping as he stepped out of his workplace. 

Despite the unusual amount of time the wounds were taking to scab, they had barely registered in Naruto’s mind. He had been distracted, and quite irked, by the intense fatigue gnawing at his muscles and the backs of his eyes alike. His every instinct pushed him to stop where he had been, throw dignity to the dogs, and plop right down on the sidewalk outside his workplace. 

He hadn’t. Forsaken his pride, that is. Naruto had pushed on in the name of dignity, and had shortly decided that if his body didn’t want to move anyway, then it didn’t matter if he ran or walked, and the sooner the ordeal came to an end, the better. 

He had not anticipated the breathlessness that overtook him minutes later, and so he’d found himself on the street outside his apartment building, panting like Akamaru on a hot day. Akamaru had a thick coat, and a “hot day” in Konoha was over 100 degrees; Naruto was in dire straits. 

He punched the code into the keypad at the main entrance, and leaned against the door, using his weight to push it open.

-

“Man, why is your sister so evil?” Naruto shrieked as he flopped face down onto the faded couch by the wall of their apartment’s “living room,” carefully avoiding The Stain on the left cushion, which one neither looked at nor described. He had thankfully cooled down somewhat in the elevator, his face losing some of its previous redness, and his breath easing up a bit. 

“Cat room?” Kiba snickered from the kitchen (which was all of fifteen feet away, and consisted of a single compartment sink with no disposal, a mini-fridge, a couple burners that had to be plugged in, and about a meter of counter space) as he pulled open a bag of chips.

Not bothering to look up, Naruto flipped him off. Kiba’s only response was unconcealed laughter.

“I need a better job,” he whined, voice muffled by the couch, “I can’t remember what it’s like to not be covered in scratches.”

“I never get scratched by the cats. That’s a you problem,” his friend said casually, and if Naruto had been looking at him, he would likely have seen him shrugging. 

“Hey, think fast,” Kiba said suddenly. Naruto twisted around to face him, and got hit in the face by a bag of chips a second later. The doritos slid to the floor with a sad crinkle. 

“Bonafide Teat,” he said jokingly.

“My deepest thanks, Chef Shitmeme,” Naruto responded, forcing a grin onto his face as he reached down to retrieve the chips. He pulled on the sides of the bag, splitting it open across the top, and reaching in as though he had any interest whatsoever in its contents. He pulled one out.

Kiba shuffled across the room, and kicked the side of the couch beneath Naruto’s feet.

“Scooch,” He said, and Naruto sat up to do so. He took the right side however, and Kiba shot him a dirty look at he sat down on the edge of the left seat. 

“Where’d you go this morning?” Naruto questioned after a moment of silence.

“Took Akamaru for a run, and ran into Hinata, plus her father and sister,” Kiba explained, “They were getting breakfast, and I ended up joining. It was… intense.” 

“Hah,” Naruto said as he imagined his roommate at some fancy diner at the same table as Hiashi, cracking jokes in a well-intentioned attempt to lower tensions between the group. (Of course, his efforts would be entirely fruitless, seeing as the elder Hyuuga had no sense of humor whatsoever, and held a mild disinterest in Kiba at best.)

“Why? Miss me?” he jibed, and Naruto scoffed.

“You wish. There’s plenty of decent company for me to spend time with around these parts, and you not being here gave me the chance to,” he sniffed.

“What, like that weirdo across the alley?” Kiba sneered, throwing an arm in the direction of the shitty little slider door that opened to nothing, and had safety railing across the bottom half to prevent renters from falling five stories onto the dumpster squeezed into the thin space between their building and the next. 

“Itachi’s not weird!” Naruto defended, “He’s just lonely, and works odd hours.” 

“That’s weird!” the other howled, throwing his hands in the air. 

“You said the same shit about me when we were younger and yet here we are.” 

“That’s different...” Kiba muttered after a moment, his face tinged red with shame, “Itachi’s a creepy asshole.” 

“Itachi is not creepy and he’s definitely not an asshole!” Naruto pushed himself off the couch in outrage (Kiba, ever the opportunist, quickly moved into the spot he had previously occupied, leaning back comfortably with the threat of The Stain removed), and started towards his room. His shift at the kennel was long over, and he’d already eaten his “dinner,” so there was nothing stopping him from crashing.

“Uh, yes he is. He’s up at all hours and he’s always got that look on his face.” 

“Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?” Naruto balked, pausing mid-step. Their neighbor didn’t have a “look,” and Kiba didn’t spend enough time around him to know, anyway.

“That sneer!” Kiba said desperately, “The look of complete and utter disdain for everything. His eyes get all narrow!” 

“You mean like when we first met him the morning after our moving-in party?” Naruto asked as he reached the door to his room, and Kiba nodded fervently, “Uh huh. That’s a you thing.” 

When he reached for the doorknob, he realized that he still had the dorito in his hand, and shoved it into his mouth so he could enter. 

-

It was 1:43 AM, Itachi noted as he pushed himself off the bed in a fit of pique. Luckily for the person who had come to his apartment door, he had only just laid down, and he was much less vengeful than the average person would have been at that time of night. Once his feet were planted firmly on the ground, he made his way to the door, not bothering to stop by a mirror. Whoever had knocked hadn’t earned any effort on his part, and despite being dressed in baggy, old pajama bottoms, he didn’t feel he had tossed around long enough to have earned the title of disheveled just yet. 

He had his fingers wrapped around the doorknob when he realized that it just might be wise to check what was behind the door before opening it to whatever maniac may stand on the other side. He leaned forward to glance through the peephole, and went still. Standing in the hall before him, clear as day, was a pale teen in a dirty, oversized black sweatshirt. He looked rather irritated, and after a moment, he pulled his hand from the pocket of the hoodie and knocked again. Itachi flinched back from the door, and pulled it open. 

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” he said firmly, “You’ve upset the order. Mom has been inconsolable and father seems to actually be reaching out to me, of all things.” 

Sasuke gasped in mock horror, “I don’t believe it.” 

“You’d better. He has called me three times this month. It’s starting to feel like the good old days,” he joked morbidly, as though three stunted calls over the course of as many weeks could even hope to compare to the constant doting of their father prior to his announcement that he would be attending a culinary institute in the Pacific Northwest.

“Amazing,” was his brother’s sole response. 

“Seriously. Thirteen months. Where were you?” Itachi said, trying his best to convey the idea that, regardless of the tone of the conversation seconds before, this was not a question, but a demand.

“Would you believe it if I said that I’ve been ruling the gangs of New York with an iron fist?”

Itachi gave a blank, unimpressed stare, and Sasuke seemed to have no trouble picking up on the message he was trying to convey. 

“Alright. I went upstate with some others from school, and we found a landlady who let us pay in cash.” 

“And?” Itachi prompted.

“Leftover allowances and birthday money were enough to pay my portion. I still have some left, even,” Sasuke explained. 

“I was looking more for a why, if you don’t mind, though it is good to know that you weren’t dealing.” 

“Could we do this later? It’s been a couple weeks since I’ve slept anywhere halfway decent,” the eighteen year-old tried, but Itachi didn’t care for his efforts; he wanted answers, and Sasuke would give him something before either one of them rested.

“You’re going to tell me why you ran before getting a glimpse of my couch,” he asserted. 

Sasuke stared pointedly at the couch behind his brother before replying, “That school is almost unbearable, and the thought of a fourth year attending actually was. I wasn’t the only one who thought so, and when I told some like minded students about my idea, they thought it was great.” 

“And just why was the school so unbearable?” Itachi pressed, continuing when Sasuke rolled his eyes, “I have a feeling that you don’t want me to call our parents right now.”

Sasuke looked at him the way a deer looks at the headlights of a moving car, and Itachi smirked at the small victory. 

“It’s archaic and smothering,” Sasuke said through gritted teeth, ”The dunce caps and random dorm searches are just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve experienced modern times. I know how good teachers are supposed to act, and what the words privacy and respect mean. Their system doesn’t cut it.” 

The explanation seemed wrong somehow, but there was only so much pressing one could do before things escalated in a way that inherently yielded negative results, and with Sasuke, the limit was a very easy one to reach. Itachi made a mental note to make more casual inquiries about the school itself later. 

“I assume you’ve been concealing your whereabouts because you didn’t want to be sent back?”

Sasuke nodded. 

“Why continue?” Itachi questioned, “You are 18 now, so why is my calling our parents a viable way to blackmail you?” 

After a moment of silence, Sasuke shrugged, and that was the end of it.

Itachi sighed, “The couch is yours. I’ll get some spare blankets.” 

-

Sasuke woke up around eleven to the sound of groaning floorboards followed by the tinkling of blinds being pulled upwards, filling the apartment with sunlight. Even through his eyelids, his vision filled with orange, and he could feel his skin warming at the surface; if he had been about to open his eyes, he wasn’t anymore. Besides, he was far more comfortable than he had been since leaving the crowded apartment he had shared with three of his peers, and he had every right to revel in it. There was no hurry.

“Good morning, little brother,” came a smooth voice, and Sasuke imagined there was a smile as warm as the sun on the bridge of his nose behind it. 

“‘Morning,” he slurred, stretching his arms out above his head. 

There was a squeaking sound as Itachi pushed a window open, and a warm breeze drifted into the apartment. It was cut off but a second later, the window having been shut once more. Itachi said nothing about the action, and Sasuke changed his mind about opening his eyes, and rolled off the couch into a sitting position on the floor in front of it. 

Stretching his legs out in front of him, he noticed that the window in question was actually a sliding door, and that Itachi had stepped through it and out onto a balcony, the existence of which Sasuke had forgotten about over the two, three years since he’d been to Itachi’s apartment. The wood itself was scarcely visible, virtually the entire deck covered in short, leafy plants, none of which seemed to have anything in common. Itachi was not, however, watering, trimming, or paying any other attention at all to his tightly-packed garden, a small basket forgotten at his feet. Itachi himself happened to be leaning over the railing, and reaching into what appeared to be thin air.

Hopeful that his brother was not, in fact, swatting at crows, Sasuke moved away from the couch to get a better angle on him. Lo and behold, Itachi had not gone crazy; the truth was even more uncanny. He was talking to someone in the adjacent building, and quite animatedly (by Itachi standards) indeed. Sasuke would find a way to use that to his own advantage. 

With a new diversion in his arsenal, Sasuke headed for the bathroom.

-

“Your little brother came back?” Naruto shouted excitedly, interrupting Itachi’s story halfway through, and leaning over the railing outside his door to give his neighbor a high-five. 

“He did,” Itachi replied, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, “You will die doing things like that.” 

“Don’t leave me hanging,” Naruto said, shaking his hand slightly, an indication that he would stop under one condition only. 

Thankfully, Itachi was not like Neji, and one determined look was all it took to get him to lean forward and give him the high-five he so desired. Naruto didn’t have Gai’s lack of shame, and he was of the opinion that five minutes was just too long to stand there grunting at an immovable object. With Itachi having bent to his will and his urge satisfied, Naruto pulled back safely behind the railing where the other couldn’t complain. 

“So, where was he?” he asked eagerly, ”Is he okay?” 

“He seems content,” the man answered with the beginnings of a grin creeping onto his face, “He claims to have been hiding out in Upstate New York with a whole group of runaways from the same school. He says they rented an apartment with payments under the table. It’s very bizarre.” 

“Holy fuck,” Naruto cackled as he pictured a group of sheltered, upper-class kids going through the motions of an immigrant family. It stopped being funny when he thought of the lengths some people had to go to in order to eek by. “Wait. How’d he pay for a whole year of rent and food?”

“He allegedly used his allowances and birthday money to cover his costs,” Itachi said with a shrug. 

“No way,” Naruto balked. 

“Sasuke’s smart enough to have realistic ideas about money and budgeting,” he shrugged again.

“How rich are you guys?” Naruto screeched after taking a moment to process the information; to have lived for a year untracked, Itachi’s younger brother must have been sent off to the school with something like fifteen grand in cash. Fifteen grand had yet to pass through Naruto’s hands in any form, and certainly not all at once. 

“Our parents,” Itachi said carefully, “are multimillionaires. As I’ve said, they cut me off years ago.” 

“I remember that part!” he said defensively, crossing his arms over his chest, “I just thought they were upper middle class. And you still lived the life.” 

“Alright, alright,” the man sighed, and Naruto was fairly certain the concession was just a tactic to avoid confrontation, but he accepted it anyway. (He didn’t want to fight Itachi either.) 

A moment of silence passed between the two, Naruto quietly contemplating how best to continue the conversation. 

“So he just showed up at two in the morning?” was what he came up with. 

“Yeah,” Itachi answered, slumping forward onto the railing in front of him. “He didn’t even bring any bags with him.”

“That’s, uh, pretty weird, Itachi,” Naruto said. An uncomfortable feeling bloomed in is gut.

“It is,” he agreed, “Though less so than it would be if this were anyone other than Sasuke.”

What kind of person goes through a year without picking up a single thing they want to keep? Naruto puzzled to himself. Who on earth could go into hiding for a year and then came back without even a change of clothes? He had never met the kid, and he was already judging him. (Though him judging Itachi’s brother was nothing new. The man had told him at length about his sibling, and Naruto had quite a bit to go off of.)

“So, what have you been up to lately?” Itachi asked abruptly, as though Naruto could possibly have anything going on in his life that was worth mentioning after hearing about the late night return of a runaway brother.

“Ah, you know, same as always,” he said with a laugh, “Rent, shenanigans. I’ve been thinking about a second job, too.” 

When it came to his income and living conditions, Naruto was... a tad more reserved than with other subjects. He’d left the Davis’ house in October with great confidence, and had made sure that everyone in his life knew all about it. A month after that, high school and life had proven a bit much to handle at once, and he’d been forced to choose between dropping out of school and trying to find a way back into the foster system. It had been an easy decision, and despite his current standings, he wouldn’t change it if he could.

For a while, it had been fun, working a six hour day and then playing video games that Kiba had brought from his parents house when he had moved out, but by March, he could feel his energy deteriorating rapidly, and Sakura’s warnings about an all-ramen diet killing him didn’t seem quite the exaggeration he’d previously thought. He wasn’t eager to let her know that, though, and he was even less enthusiastic about the idea of telling her (or anyone other than Kiba, who only had the vaguest idea due to the fact that they lived together) that he was, at that point, unable to pay for anything else.

Itachi may not have known him when he had first moved out, but his every instinct still screamed against the idea of acting with any less pride than he did around everyone else. He didn’t want the man to think he was helpless, and he certainly didn’t want to ruin their friendship by letting Itachi spoonfeed him the things he needed in life. Things between them were good as they were, and Naruto would manage this himself. 

“Really?” Itachi said, “How come?” 

“No real reason!” Naruto laughed sheepishly, “I’d just like to have some spending money is all. You won’t find any pockets stuffed with gift money in this apartment!” 

His neighbor’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“Be careful not to overextend yourself,” he warned, and Naruto thanked the heavens that Itachi had not continued questioning him about his reasoning. 

“Of course not!” he agreed readily, “So, what brought you out here anyway?” 

“Right,” Itachi said, raising a hand to brush his bangs out of the way, “I was getting some chives and cherry tomatoes for omelettes.” 

The teen’s mouth watered involuntarily at the mention of omelettes. Thankfully, he wasn’t caught wiping at his lips, as the other had turned his attention to one of the long, wooden planters affixed to the outer wall of his building (Naruto would never understand how Itachi got his landlady to let him do that). 

“Sounds nice.” Naruto said politely as the other went about his business.

Itachi pulled a pair of scissors from the basket by his feet, and cut a handful of what looked like thick grass from the planter, before moving to a tomato plant wrapped around his balcony railing, and picking a handful of the tiny red spheres. It took thirty seconds for the man to collect the ingredients into his basket, and every ounce of Naruto’s self control not to request one of the omelettes for himself. 

“Hopefully it will be,” Itachi replied with a smirk as he turned back to him, “Even in the worst of moods, the tomatoes will keep Sasuke at bay.” 

“He a picky eater?” Naruto asked, still eyeing the tomato plant in hunger.

“He will usually eat what he is given, but it’s not always pleasant. I’ll just say that this wasn’t my original plan,” the man said with a sigh, picking the basket off the ground and hooking it over his elbow. 

“Nice,” Naruto said as he rolled his eyes.

The two unceremoniously parted ways a moment later, Itachi heading into his apartment to cook breakfast for his brother and himself, and Naruto walking ten feet to his right to heat up a packet of pork-flavored Top Ramen, which he only ate because he knew he couldn’t work on an empty stomach. 

-

“You look like you woke up fifteen minutes ago. From a coma,” a familiar voice chimed from behind where Naruto was sweeping.

“Shut your trap, I look gorgeous. You wouldn’t know an attractive person if you took a year-long A.P. class on it,” Naruto proclaimed, not bothering to turn in towards her. The object of his hostility didn’t seem to bat an eye. (And he wouldn’t have had it any other way.) 

“Like you’re one to talk! You spent two years in that god forsaken jacket, and two more in its replacement!” she taunted, “I still sometimes call out to random men wearing orange because of you. I really should be suing for emotional damages.” 

“At least I don’t wear red all the time with pink hair!” 

“It’s too late for you to criticize others about their color choices!” 

“Fuckin’ ditto!” he snarled viciously. 

They were both on the floor a minute later, clutching at their sides in laughter. The argument was one they’d had many times, and it was scripted enough that a deviation from its general course, aside from the beginning, which changed quite a bit depending on what the instigator could find to insult about the other, could derail the entire thing. 

(Once, during their junior year, Naruto had responded to her mention of suing by threatening to press charges for all the physical abuse he’d endured over the years. Sakura was a good ten seconds into a rant about his hypocrisy regarding poor color choices, when she realized that he hadn’t mentioned her clothing at all, and promptly throttled Naruto for having caused her to slip up. He tried not to stray from the pattern after that.) 

“Owners came for the dog in pen fourteen! You know that that means, Uzumaki!” Hana called from the back, which was actually the largest part of the kennel, and where the dogs spent the majority of their time. Naruto did, in fact, know what she meant; she meant that he had to get his ass back to work pronto, or he’d be in a world of hurt. (Hurt meaning, in most cases, that Naruto would be caring for the cats.)

He glanced Sakura, and she nodded solemnly. 

Her eyes went wide just a second later. 

“Wait,” She said in urgent, yet hushed tones, “I did come here for a reason-”

“Yeah?” he said, not quite able to stop himself from interrupting her.

“Shut it, dingus,” she hissed before continuing, “I’m throwing a party Wednesday, since it’ll be spring break. You should come.” 

“I thought I was banned from your house,” he puzzled. Mr. Haruno had never liked Naruto, and when he had heard about his withdrawal from school that November, it had been the last straw. Having gotten his hands on undeniable evidence that Naruto was a negative influence on his daughter, he had since done his damndest to cut him out of Sakura’s life. 

Not that she cared. 

In fact, the day after her father had made the decision, she had gone to Ino’s to “cool off,” and the two had hopped into Ino’s car the minute Mrs. Haruno had driven away. Ino dropped her off outside Naruto’s apartment building, and she then spent the evening destroying Naruto at Mortal Combat, and crashed on the couch overnight. Ino brought her back to the house a few minutes after Sakura’s mother arrived that morning, but according to Sakura, it had been easy to play it off as they two having gone out for coffee.

“The party’s not at my house,” she declared with a grin. 

Of course that was when Hana had to burst through the door. They were just getting to the best part. 

“Enough flirting, Uzumaki. Back to work,” she ordered, and Naruto jumped a good three feet in the air. The brunette stood even with him, at five foot ten, leaving her as the shortest member of her family. Despite her “measly” stature, she was one of the most intimidating people around; it was a fortunate thing that she was as good natured as a person could get.

“Yes, ma’am!” he squeaked, not bothering to correct her as he bolted back in the direction from which she had come.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very loose idea I came up with some months ago, wrote a few words on, and promptly forgot about. I was very excited about it when I started, and in truth I still am, though I have no idea where I'm going with this in terms of a plot. Please feel free (read: encouraged) to comment if you like this or have any interest in seeing more.


End file.
